A Little Inspiration
by sponsormusings
Summary: Housebound and bored, Katniss finds a 'gift' from Effie she never expected to find. And it makes her wonder about her...and Peeta. A one-shot set during Catching Fire. A submission for Prompts in Panem, March 2014. Day 5.


She'd been a captive in her own damn home for days and was slowly, methodically going insane. There were only so many times Katniss could watch Peeta and Haymitch try and outmaneuver each other on the chessboard, or listen as her mother and Prim talked about whatever illnesses they'd treated for that day. Her patience was limited as her mother tried to show her - unsuccessfully - how to knit, and helping Prim with homework only lasted for so long.

She had to admit that she enjoyed the times she sat with Peeta creating the plant book, watching as his hand danced over the page while he brought to life the specific details she gave him. Evergreen plants and flowers with a blush of pink, their stems lifelike enough that she could almost imagine they were swaying in a breeze. But he couldn't be here all the time - _not that she would admit to that, because that was wrong, and not something she should be wanting anyway_ - and it was those times that she found herself the most bored and restless and frustrated. She missed the trees, the feel of the wind on her skin, the earth beneath her feet. She missed doing something, _anything_, other than lying around.

Which was why she'd found herself in the middle of the houses' library on a cool Thursday afternoon, staring blankly at shelf after shelf full of books of various sizes and colours. She figured she'd pass her time reading, but as that kind of pastime had never been high on her agenda, she didn't have a clue where to start.

Tipping her head to the side, Katniss began to scan the titles that lined the leather spines - _A History of Panem, Leader of Men: A Biography of Coriolanus Snow, Capitol Fashion through the Ages, Panem: Your Country_... Titles that made her roll her eyes and immediately disregard them. She couldn't care less about the history of Panem - after all, she had a pretty intimate connection with where history had led the country already.

Giving up, she half turned on her good heel towards the door when a row of bright purple spines caught her eye. Nowhere near as stuffy looking as most of the books in the library, she reached a hand toward one, surprised to find it was soft and flimsy - not like the other thick, heavy, leather-bound books that surrounded her. Turning it to look at the cover, she almost choked on her own tongue.

"_A Lustful Obsession"? What the hell?_

Her face various shades of pink, she turned it over so that she didn't have to look at the half naked man on the cover, and read the blurb on the back. _Things only got worse._

Instinctively, she threw it onto the small brocade sofa, as if it had burned her fingers. How on Earth was anything like that in their house - let alone ten of them? Where had they come from? What if her mother had read them? What if _Prim _had read them? Her face screwed up in horror at the thought.

Katniss' eyes slid over to the book again, and she bit her lip as she eyed the guy on the cover. He kind of looked like Finnick Odair, she mused, all bronze hair, smooth golden skin, eyes the colour of the ocean in Four, with a sultry smirk that she supposed was meant to make women - and men - weak at the knees. Many of them probably did - but in her mind, he really didn't have anything on Peet-

_Stop!_

Stomping as best as she could over to a large mahogany side table - wincing immediately as her injured heel dug into the ground - she dropped into the seat beside it, picking up the slim phone that, as far as she knew, had never been used. There was only one person she could think of to ask about the books; studying the pre-programmed numbers that had been entered, she selected number 2. After three rings, she heard a clicking noise, and a high pitched voice blasted in her ear.

"Oh _hello_ there, you've reached Effie Trinket. I'm unavailable right now - possibly out doing work for my fabulous victors! - but please leave a little comment at the chime!" Katniss sighed, but started to leave a message.

"Effie, it's Katniss. Katniss Everdeen. Can you call me-" She heard a scrabbling noise, a slight curse, then Effie's dulcet tones echoed down the phone.

"Oh, Katniss, _darling_, how are you?!"

"You're there?" Katniss asked dumbly.

"Oh yes dear. I just scan all my calls because I just get so _many_ these days, and I'm far too busy to do what everyone would like to ask of me. Now what can I do for you, dear? I must say I'm quite surprised - it's normally Peeta who calls me to say hello!"

Katniss rolled her eyes - _of course Peeta would call Effie, Mr Personable himself - _and took a deep breath. "I, um, wanted to ask you about some books in the library."

"Yes dear? Which ones?"

"The, um, er, uhhhhh-"

"The point, Katniss, get to the point, please," Effie huffed.

"The purple ones."

"The purple ones? What...oh! Oh yes, I know the books you mean. Why, I brought them with me to leave behind when we returned to Twelve for the end of the tour."

Katniss inhaled so quickly she coughed violently, spluttering all over the phone. "You..you..._you_ brought them?"

Effie laughed, a little trill that made her sound like a condescending bird. "Of course I did! It's quite obvious that you need a little guidance, my dear Katniss. My, the boy you're in love with was almost naked in your arms in the middle of that arena and you blushed ten shades of red." She clucked her tongue. "Now, I'm not telling you to go out and _try _any of the things you read about in those books straight away, mind you. But just for the _future_ Katniss. Because now with..."

"With what?"

"Well, your upcoming wedding," Effie said gently. "There are certain responsibilities that come with-"

"STOP!" Katniss practically screamed down the phone. _The last thing she needed was a sex talk with Effie. She'd wanted to hide in her bedroom for a week after her mother had attempted to have a similar conversation when she and Peeta had first returned from the tour, freshly engaged._

"Well, I'm just trying to _help_, dear, honestly. Just read them in your own time. Give yourself a little inspiration. Oh, and remember to look at the covers when you do - I gave you the _Victor Lovers _collection!" _You've got to be kidding._ "Anyway, is that all, Katniss? Is there anything else you needed?"

"Uh...no. No, that was all."

"Wonderful! Do keep well, and I shall see you soon! May the odds be ever in your favour!" The dial tone beeped in her ear, and Katniss lowered the phone until it fell to the wooden table top with a thud. Effie had intentionally left those books here. For _inspiration_. For her. And Peeta.

She was pretty certain she was going to be sick.

But not sick enough that later in the night, when she was hobbling her way up the stairs to bed, the book was tucked firmly in the waistband of her pants.

_Curiosity had overwhelmed everything else._

* * *

Katniss woke at 3am, her heart racing, the metallic tang of blood in her mouth from where she'd bitten through her lip. Cato's twitching eye had been the last thing she'd seen before she'd wrenched herself out of sleep with a hoarse cry.

It was the same, every night, and made her long for the nights on the train where Peeta's hand would trail down her arm, and his warm breath would murmur in her ear, remind her that she was ok, she was safe. And they were the only times she was absolutely certain that she was.

Reaching for the glass of tepid water that sat on her nightstand, she sipped at it, allowing it to soothe her throat as her eyes eventually adjusted to the darkness. She'd left the window open _(something she would never admit she did because Peeta did)_, and a faint breeze wafted through the sheer curtain. The moon was high, and full, and cast a thin beam of light into the room, across her bed, hitting the corner of the nightstand.

And almost landing directly on the cover of _the book._

Turning her back on it, she slid down on the bed, breathing deeply to steady her heart, to allow her stomach to settle. But no matter how much she willed herself to sleep, she couldn't. An hour passed, then two, and her mind wouldn't shut off, racing with thoughts and feelings and emotions she no longer knew how to control.

With a frustrated sigh, she rolled back over, flipped the switch on the small bedside lamp, and snatched the book from the nightstand. If anything, maybe it would send her to sleep.

_It did anything but._

The sun was climbing over the horizon as she closed it, hurriedly shoving it under the pillows, her stomach fluttering awkwardly. She was only halfway through, but she wasn't sure she wanted to finish - she wasn't sure she _could_ finish. Her heart had clenched a half dozen times while reading, and there'd been one scene where her toes had curled into the mattress and whatever she'd been feeling had reminded her of being in the cave with Peeta, his lips pressed to hers.

Effie's words had echoed in her ears, of weddings, of marriages, of what came with that.

And, while her heart turned nervously, she vaguely wondered what Peeta would think of it all.

* * *

Later that day, as he sat beside her in the parlour, Katniss watched as he carefully reproduced an aloe vera plant, its stems long, lemony green and almost knifelike.

She studied the way his eyelashes tangled together - as she'd done so many times already this week - watched the way the muscle in his jaw clenched as he concentrated. She liked the way his mouth slightly pursed when he wasn't sure of a line he'd drawn, and the way the corners would turn up when he was happy with his progress. She stared at his fingers as they flexed around the pencil he held, at his hand as it rested against the paper he drew on.

The sudden thought of his hand running across her shoulder, pushing at a thin strip of fabric until it slipped down her arm, goosebumps breaking out across her flesh, made her startle and she fought back a cough. Peeta glanced over at her in concern, but when she shook her head, he turned away again.

_She couldn't help the way images filled her brain, of she and Peeta doing some of the things that had been described in the book. And she couldn't decide if she was interested or terrified._

Abruptly, Katniss stood, almost toppling over before Peeta quickly reached for her hand, steadying her.

"You ok, Katniss?" He asked, worry filling his eyes.

She nodded. "I'm...I'm...I didn't sleep well last night. I might go up and rest for a bit."

"Do you want me to come with you?" His question was innocent, her thoughts anything but.

"No, I'm ok," she replied. She turned, began hobbling her way over to the stairs when she stopped. "Actually...will you? You, uh, always helped me to sleep on the train."

Peeta's smile was soft as he replied. "Of course." He closed the book with a gentle snap, placed it reverently on the coffee table, and rose, joining her at the base of the stairs. His hand closed under her elbow, giving her better leverage as they began to climb.

Moving into her room, he pulled the quilt back and gestured for her to climb in, before shifting to the other side and slipping his shoes off. She watched as he dropped on top of the quilt, resting against the bed head with his legs stretched out in front of him. Katniss slipped under the covers, thumped her pillow a little before settling in, and allowed her arm to lie against Peeta's, the feel of his warm skin against hers a familiar comfort. _That was allowed. It wasn't like she was holding his hand or anything…_

She drifted off to sleep with barely another thought.

* * *

Katniss awoke a few hours later, feeling more rested than she had in days. The room was surprisingly warm, and sliding her eyes over to the fireplace, she realised it had been lit, flames crackling and curling in the hearth. She'd turned onto her side sometime in her sleep, but she knew from the way the bed dipped behind her that Peeta was still there.

Slowly rolling to face him, she was surprised to find him sleeping, something she wasn't used to seeing. He had almost always been awake before her when they shared a bed, ready to draw her from her dreams when they tormented her. She took a moment to look her fill of the boy she so rarely got to study without question, and was mesmerised by the way his eyes flickered slightly under the thin skin of his eyelids, by the smooth skin on his face, free of the stubble that Haymitch sported. He looked so young and innocent when he slept.

Then her eyes trailed down his arms, and his chest, to where his hands were folded against his stomach. And her own pitched in horror.

_The book lay, open and face-down, on his stomach. And it looked like he'd gotten way further than she had._

With an embarrassed moan, she pressed her head into the pillow, cursing herself for leaving it where she had. _She should have just put it back, put it back in the library where it belonged. It wasn't like she was going to finish it or anything_…

She froze as she felt the mattress shift, as Peeta stirred beside her. Her head rose instinctively, her eyes sliding over to him warily as he lifted both his arms above his head to stretch. He smiled sleepily at her, then frowned as he caught the look on her face, the flush on her cheek. Then they both glanced at the book at the same time; his sharp intake of breath was instantaneous.

He practically tumbled off the bed, his feet hitting the wooden floorboards with a thud, the book following close behind. She watched in surprise as he stood there, his mouth opening and closing, moving but devoid of sound. _Peeta was literally speechless._

"I, um, I, uh, have to go," he finally babbled, his hands twisting together awkwardly in front of him. He looked everywhere but at her - at the wall, at the floor, at the ceiling. "I'll, um, I'll come back over tomorrow, okay?" Without another word, he shot out the door, quicker than she'd seen him move in a long time.

5 minutes later she was still staring at the door, wondering what the hell had happened.

* * *

Peeta arrived at 10am the next morning, a smile on his face and a spring in his step. Whatever had bothered him the afternoon before was long gone, and in its place was the same calm, friendly Peeta, the one who would coax a grin out of her whether she liked it or not, the Peeta who asked her twenty times if he'd gotten the colour shading right on a bunch of berries. They worked on the plant book like normal, stopped for lunch with her mother like they had most days.

It wasn't until late afternoon, with the sun streaming through the window and small dust mites dancing around them, that Peeta cleared his throat.

"Katniss?"

She nodded, then realised he wasn't looking at her, but was studiously focused on the flower he was shading in. "Yeah?"

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, the edge of his mouth tilting up. "About that book…"


End file.
